


care & comfort (& maybe love)

by ChameleonCircuit



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Sick Sonny, Sickfic, bc im soft for them these days, caretaker amanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 17:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30092484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: “Seriously, Amanda, everyone I work with is sick,” he said, fishing in his pocket for his hand-sanitiser. “Check my forehead, will ya?”She rolled her eyes, but stopped to indulge him anyway, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead as he leaned in, rubbing sanitiser over his hands.“You know that won’t help if someone sneezes on you, right?” She asked, nodding towards his hands as she pulled away. “You feel fine.”
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Amanda Rollins
Comments: 9
Kudos: 42





	care & comfort (& maybe love)

**Author's Note:**

> pls just assume covid doesn't exist and Sonny's illness was never a covid concern cos I realise in our current world, Sonny's symptoms would mean testing and isolation etc etc but I'm tired and I want my sickfic lmao

Sonny flinched as someone walking past them in the courthouse sneezed, and Amanda couldn’t have held back her derisive snort if she tried.

“Seriously, Amanda, everyone I work with is sick,” he said, fishing in his pocket for his hand-sanitiser. “Check my forehead, will ya?”

She rolled her eyes but stopped to indulge him anyway, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead as he leaned in, rubbing sanitiser over his hands.

“You know that won’t help if someone sneezes on you, right?” She asked, nodding towards his hands as she pulled away. “You feel fine.”

Sonny rolled his eyes but smiled fondly nonetheless. “See you after work?”

She nodded, a soft smile settling on her face as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You want me to cook, or you want me to grab something on my way over?”

“Whatever you want,” she said with a shrug. 

She’d never ask him to cook, but she always preferred it. It wasn’t even about the taste or the quality—those were just added bonuses. It was the warm feeling that filled her up from head to toe watching him make himself at home in her kitchen as though he belonged there, familiar smells filling the small space.

“I’ll cook,” he said softly, nudging her gently before taking off in the direction of the DA’s office.

“You don’t have to,” she called after him.

He sneezed in response, a look of horror crossing his face for a moment, startling a laugh out of her.

“I want to,” he called back, barely audible over the traffic sounds around them.

* * *

Sonny arrived just after Amanda had stepped out of the shower, her still-wet hair leaving dark, damp marks on the comfy sweater she’d pulled on.

“Perfect timing,” she said with a grin, stepping aside to let him in.

He smiled back, but his eyes seemed duller somehow, and as she studied him, she noticed just how tired he looked.

“We can still order takeout,” Amanda said as Jesse bowled into Sonny, wrapping her arms around him with a squeal of delight.

“Nah.” He picked Jesse up, swinging her onto his hip as Billie came trailing behind, stumbling over her own feet in her effort to get to him. “I got everything I need.”

She took the grocery bag from his free arm so he could sweep Billie off the ground and into a firm hug, as she launched into a barely-coherent story about her day.

Amanda smiled fondly, watching from over the kitchen counter as Sonny gasped in all the right places, dividing his attention between her girls evenly. Not for the first time, she thought about how much easier all this would be if Sonny was actually their father.

He caught her eye from across the room as he set both girls back on the floor and smiled again, still looking tired, but more alive and alert than he had a moment ago.

“Go be with your girls,” he said quietly, coming around the other side of the counter to unpack the rest of the groceries. “I’ve got this.”

“You sure?”

“Remember what happened last time you tried to help me cook?” He teased, raising an eyebrow.

She hit him firmly on the shoulder, earning a muttered, “Ow!” in response.

“S’what you get for mocking me in my own home,” she retorted, and despite the lack of bite to her voice, Sonny had the decency to look properly chastised.

—

With the girls in bed and their stomachs full of good, hearty food, Amanda settled on the couch, Sonny trailing behind her, looking utterly exhausted now he wasn’t putting on a show.

“You okay?” She asked quietly.

He plonked down beside her and she lifted her legs to rest her feet in his lap, pleased when his hand instantly settled on her ankle.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, reaching for the remote with his free hand. “Just, long day, y’know?”

“Yeah.” She wasn’t fully convinced, but she dropped it, relaxing further into the lounge as he flicked through the channels, looking for something they could both enjoy.

She tried not to look too much in case he caught her staring, but she couldn’t help noticing the odd flush to his otherwise pale cheeks or the bags under his eyes or the way he seemed to be fighting a losing battle against sleep. After only half an hour, his hand had fallen limp on her foot and his head had lolled to the side, eyes closed, asleep in record time.

She was careful not to wake him, letting him get the sleep he so obviously needed, but eventually, she felt sleep tugging at her own eyelids and knew she had to get to bed.

“Sonny,” she said softly, gently pulling her legs out of his lap and planting them on the floor. “Wake up.”

He groaned, shoving his face into the back of the couch, and she laughed, patting his leg gently.

“Your neck’s gonna hate you if you stay like that all night.”

When he finally turned his head to face her again, his eyes looked bleary, almost glassy, and his cheeks were burning in contrast to his pale face.

“Sonny?”

“Mmm?” He blinked at her like he was struggling to focus.

She reached out instinctively to touch his forehead and winced at the heat beneath her hand.

“Dominick, you’re burning up.”

“Told ya,” he said with a tired, crooked smile, letting his eyes drift shut again.

She sighed. “Come on. Bed.”

“Wha’?” He cracked open an eye to look at her. “Your bed?”

“Yes, my bed.” She stood, placing one hand on her hip, the other outstretched for him to take. “You can’t sleep on the couch. Your back will hate you. And me.”

“It’s comfy.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re really turning down an offer to get in bed with me?”

That startled a laugh out of him which turned into a hacking, nasty-sounding cough halfway through that took him a moment to recover from.

“Come on.”

He took her hand, allowing himself to be dragged off the couch, and followed her stiffly into her bedroom. She removed his shoes for him, heart hammering under the soft, sleepy look he was giving her, and settled beside him under the covers.

“What if I get you sick?”

She shrugged, turning off the lamp. “Then I get sick.”

He rolled his eyes at her, and she pressed a kiss to his burning forehead before she could think better of it. For a moment, they just watched each other, Sonny fighting sleep once more just to savour the moment.

“Go to sleep,” she whispered, pushing his hair back from his face as it fell from its gelled coif.

“And miss this?”

“Miss what?”

“This,” he gestured lazily between them. “This is nice.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, her hand settling between them on top of the sheets. “I’ll still be here in the morning.”

“You’d better.”

His hand closed loosely around hers in the space between them and in a matter of seconds, he was asleep again.

—

When Amanda’s alarm went off in the morning, Sonny groaned, pressing his face into the pillow.

“How you feelin’?” She asked, reaching across to run her fingers through his hair.

“Like I got hit by a truck and the truck’s driving repeatedly over my head while blowing fumes into my lungs,” he croaked out, punctuated by a harsh cough.

She pressed the back of her hand to his cheek and sighed at the heat she felt, hotter than he had been the night before.

“Stay here,” she said quietly as she slipped out from beneath the covers.

Grateful she had the day off, Amanda rummaged through her cupboard for some Tylenol and cough medicine.

Finding what she was after, she filled a glass of water and headed back into the bedroom, surprised to find Sonny sitting up.

“Here.” She handed him the glass of water and popped two Tylenol out for him to take.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?” She asked, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, though she wasn’t sure why.

He gestured between them before swallowing the pills, placing the glass on the nightstand. “I’ll be—“ he broke off with another hacking cough that had him wincing in pain.

“Fine?” She teased, and he groaned, sinking back down against the pillows.

“You gonna look after me?”

“I’m gonna try.”

He grinned at her, that same, sleepy lop-sided grin from the night before, and her stomach fluttered.

“Thanks.”

“Do you want breakfast or sleep?”

“Sleep,” he muttered, eyes already drifting closed. “Definitely sleep.”

She nodded, being extra careful to leave the room quietly so she could get the girls ready for the day.

—

Hours later, Sonny, lost in the depths of Amanda’s duvet, emerged from the bedroom, hair sticking up out of the top of the cocoon he’d made himself. She laughed at the sight of him and made room on the couch for him to plonk down beside her.

Instantly, he leant into her, sniffing heavily.

“Feeling any better?”

He shrugged, letting his eyes fall shut, which she took as the no he’d never say out loud.

“You hungry?”

A smile tugged at his lips and he looked up at her, blinking lazily. “You gonna cook for me?”

She scoffed, swatting his arm. “No. But there’s soup in the fridge if you feel like it.”

As though on cue, Sonny’s stomach growled loud enough to make Amanda laugh, and she gently eased him off of her shoulder so she could heat the soup up for him.

“You don’t gotta do that, I can—“

“Sit down,” she admonished, staring him down from over the counter until he relaxed back into the couch. “After all the times you’ve cooked for me, the least I can do is heat up some soup.”

“You cook for me, too.”

She snorted, returning to the stovetop. “Yeah, if microwave mac and cheese or store-bought pancake mix count as cooking.”

“It counts,” he said, voice as soft as his tired, lazy smile, and she felt her stomach swoop, chest growing warm and fuzzy as she kept determinedly faced away from him, fighting a smile of her own.

By the time Amanda was bringing him his soup, Sonny looked more alert and awake, the flush in his cheeks having died down just enough for some of her concern to ease. As he took the tray from her, she reached out to touch his forehead, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Your fever’s gone down.”

Sonny grinned up at her. “Thanks to you.”

“I’m not that amazing.” She sat down beside him again, tucking her feet under his blanket.

“You are to me.”

She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile, but when she looked at him, he looked so sincere she felt her heart clench, stomach fluttering.

“I mean it, ‘Manda. Thank you.”

She watched him for a moment, heart hammering against her ribs, unsure what to say, before settling on a quiet, “Eat your soup, Dominick,” before turning back to the TV, head resting against his shoulder.


End file.
